If Some Appalling Disaster Befalls, There's Always

When A Wise Man Chooses A Sane Basis For His Arguments, It Is No Great Task To Speak Well.

My Hands Are Clean, But My Heart Has Somewhat Of Impurity.

Reason Can Wrestle And Overthrow Terror.

He Is Life's Liberating Force. He Is Release Of Limbs And Communion Through Dance. He Is Laughter, And Music In Flutes. He Is Repose From All Cares -- He Is Sleep! When His Blood Bursts From The Grape And Flows Across Tables Laid In His Honor To Fuse With Our Blood, He Gently, Gradually, Wraps Us In Shadows Of Ivy-cool Sleep.

Love Must Not Touch The Marrow Of The Soul. Our Affections Must Be Breakable Chains That We Can Cast Them Off Or Tighten Them.